Tag: Lust

Meditation 347 ~It’ll B Written, Virgil~

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When I was a boy, I cried over everything. What am I now? Something, someone who is afraid all the time. My Braxton is still gone, but it wasn’t him or the book I was reading. Blasted allergies? Or what’s become of the U.S.A? It’ll B Written, Virgil.

Friday, June 13, 2025

Meditation 347 ~It’ll B Written, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Friday the 13th. Happy Friday the 13th, though we do get a couple. So much blood.

“Yes, there will be blood.”

I’m more a fan of John Kramer, aka Jigsaw, than Jason Voorhees. Jigsaw could explain why I was crying today? Then Jason has the whole John Wick thing going for him. A man/monster of focus, commitment, and sheer will. This “Will” doesn’t have that. Guts!

But I still have my son’s blood on my hands. My poor Braxton, my firstborn. With the stroke of a pen, I ended his life on the “day of our lord” Sunday, January 31, 2021.

Seriously, Sophia, they talk about how long it takes for serial killers to get going. Saturday, August 13, 2022, with another pen, I “rescued” Braxton’s little brother Virgil. “How to Save a Life?” Give me sweat, blood, and tears and not ink. That comes later.

FEAR of sweat, blood, and tears? I’m not a hard worker, hard enough, considering what I’ve accomplished today. “Here and Now,” it’ll be written that I was crying while reading.

Can’t I save the love songs for Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom, M Anime. Or shall I call her Julia from “1984.” My Lenina from “Brave New World.” Is she Lorinda from “It Can’t Happen Here?” How about I-330 from “We?” Where am I going with all this other than ideas of dystopian sex? I feel like Winston. I’m weak like Bernard but want to be the Savage. I want to write like Doremus. And I’m a victim, liar, traitor like D-503. A man, ha! All these books, Sophia, they’re all I have to make sense of my identity now. To alliveate the fears of…

A well-read something or other lying with M Anime, someday.

My Julia, as she told me this morning that when we meet for the first time, she should wear some blue coveralls and the red sash of “The Junior Anti-Sex League.” We make plans all the time in texts. All of it is designed to look like ink. Kindle books, love letters, coding, etc. Yet I can’t write out an honest answer. Why was I crying over a book, hm?

Sophia, the book was Spring Break: A Slice of Life Contemporary Harem (Harem University Book 6) by Dirk Knight. No, I was not crying over that. Not even over Braxton.

FEAR grips me sometimes. Hell, like grief over my son always and forever. Writing life. Mine? What’s it saying? The End… It’ll B Written, Virgil

1594 Days Without B III, Day 1035 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 344 ~B A Minute Virgil~

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I’m not a minuteman. No disrespect to the founders. While I’m here, FDT, eff the Jan 6’ers, eff Buzz Windrip and his Minute Men. Eff Article 5’s Moral Militia, and eff the NFFA. I’m a “Sixty Minute Man” for love. And my boys. “B A Minute Virgil”

Tuesday, June 10, 2025

Meditation 344 ~B A Minute Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I hope you do. Virgil doesn’t. I send him downstairs, but if I don’t follow.

Abandoned. Virgil feels as though I’ve abandoned him. Like father, like son. That’s 2-V, ha.

And he feels that at twenty-eight. Well, four. But in dog years, he’s in his twenties, so he’s, in fact, a man. And what, and I am forty? A man. Your man. Husband, a father.

Honestly, I want to be a Tru Rider… “A strong survivor, a real provider, a Tru Rider, that’s me.” Oh, you know I’ll go get a motorcycle and join up with the “Biker Boyz.” Hm.

And that’s what I feel like. A boy. I was thirty-six and bawling like a baby when I lost my firstborn son, Braxton. It’s been a minute. How many minutes have there been since Sunday, January 31, 2021. Math, baby…

That’s something I leave to you. I would be more than willing to live by Gus Fring’s word, “A Man Provides.” And I would work forever and a day to take care of our family.

There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about that. Being afraid. Every minute, every second. FEAR.

I don’t fear clocks or time. I fear I’m wrong that I’m to blame “The World Is Gonna End Tonight” or in the next five minutes. Do you remember when I told you that’s how I dealt with everything? In five minutes, nothing would matter, and I could let everything go.

“I ain’t got time, leave me alone
Ain’t that much time left
I’ve got to funk you now
Chronomentrophobia”
Chronomentrophobia

“Jeezu,” why can’t one of those things be FEAR? Our sons and daughters, sleep and sex, my love. Those moments, minutes, make me fearless.

And I lie here trying to believe tomorrow will be okay. Staind’s “Outside” is better. Beloved, music makes it better. Or at least I can’t hear everything that terrifies me.

Mornings spent here in our bed, love, reading on harems, humans, hellions, hot S&M sex.

Moaning along with you with every effing filthy, freaky fantasy that we can conjure up. Have I mentioned how much I love you? And that I’m happy you’re mine. Happiness…

Momentarily slip up. Me being happy. Ask me to “Be Not So Fearful.” Finding love.

“Be not so sorry for what you’ve done
You must forget them now; it’s done
And when you wake up, you will find that you can run
Be not so sorry for what you’ve done.”
― Be Not So Fearful

Memories of Braxton guarding me as I lie upon this old mattress. Awake and alive.

Making our children happy. Those are the moments that make me smile. That makes me…

Me. Be A Minute, Virgil.

1591 Days Without B III, Day 1032 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 340 ~Braxton Barks Library Virgil~

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I don’t draw up architecture plans; I write books. Do I? How about reading stories? “The Long Walk” was good. But the end needed more steps… “The Aeneid.” I named my secondborn Virgil, so I understand why he sleeps. Braxton Barks Library Virgil.

Friday, June 6, 2025

Meditation 340 ~Braxton Barks Library Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… Hell! After reading “The Long Walk,” whose ending was somewhat, Meh. I’ve sampled “The Aeneid.” Snooze

Or am I lazy? Yesterday was a waste of a day. There is the exception of reading, M Anime.

You know, Braxton and Virgil’s potential stepmom. I swear I need to bind all of her stories together into one volume of work. And what of my stories? Braxton’s Life Matters.

So much so that I haven’t published either of my son’s two novels. I haven’t gotten around to building that magnificent temple in his memory that I told M Anime about. So that brings us to today. I was walking past my library/study/Braxton’s Bedroom/Virgil’s Bedroom. And what did I see? The Shawshank Redemption. The movie.

The Brooks Hatlen Memorial Library, to be precise. Is that sad? Braxton’s old room feels like a prison library, Sophia.

It was from time to time. Whenever Braxton would get into trouble. But I’ll never forget, on his final days, Braxton somehow found the strength to walk to his room.

Even when I brought him his water bowl, he insisted on going to his room to drink. He did it to spare me worry. I find myself in tears, wishing I had captured those moments. The Long Walk, Braxton Edition.

There’s one more thing I want for his temple, or museum, or mausoleum, or memorial. I was telling M Anime that I want to go all out. A fusion of Egyptian and Greek styles. I want to build something that truly honors Braxton’s Resting Place.

I want it to be built with Obsidian stone. Volcanic glass. There’ll be golden statues of my firstborn son. Paintings, Videos, and my books for him. Idolatry? You’re damn straight.

It’s not like I’m firing the 14th librarian of Congress because I’m a racist MAGA freak, Karoline Leavitt. Effing MAGA and FDT. However, let’s not discuss poor reading material. SIGH

The news? At least my stories are confined to fiction. B III’s existence is nonfiction.

But what about his and Virgil’s stepmom. Before writing a “love” story with her, hmm.

Sophia, I have a burning desire to see my books in bookstores, libraries, and bestseller lists. Just like Cherry boasts about. Am I joking? Whatever.

Then I can worry about the Red Room or, rather, the Black Room and everything I want to do with M Anime. The temple where my son may finally rest in peace. A bedroom where I don’t wake up exhausted each and every morning. Book it. Braxton Barks Library Virgil

1587 Days Without B III, Day 1028 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 337 ~B The Ball, Virgil~

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A great man once said, “You know nothing about dying, and you know nothing about love!” Let’s start simpler. What do I know about sports? The richer you are, the smaller your balls. “Am I rich enough?” There’s still love around. “B The Ball, Virgil.”

Tuesday, June 3, 2025

Meditation 337 ~B The Ball, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But I’m not a prince, a player, and how many puppies have I had love?

Love hasn’t always been a ball for me. A dance? A game? And to have the balls to do so. That last one is another thing entirely. But when it came to Braxton… An accident.

“Accidents ambush the unsuspecting, often violently, just like love.”
― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle (2008)

Honestly, that’s not something a parent is supposed to say about their child. But Braxton.

Love, ask me how I am on this Sunday, June 1, 2025. And you’re seeing this on the 3rd. Ha.

Love is like seeing a fly ball and “I Think I Can, I Think I Can,” get off The Pillows first to go to a ball game. But anyway, I see the ball, and I reach out, and I get beaned in the head. SIGH. Or I chase a ball into the street and… BAM!

But enough about my fur buddy Braxton. And Virgil? Six months of meds… He’ll live.

What about two furry balls that are a little bit closer to my person, if you know what I mean. When was the last time “You and Me” made ‘the bedsprings sing’ in this Lifehouse of ours? I don’t have little white balls, ha-ha. Still, my big, ole black ones feel like they are getting whacked around, and I need to find a hole someplace in you, my beautiful wife.

Wow! Was that crass? I could talk about my fantasies with you, my pretty “Cheerleader.” “Oh, I think that I found myself a cheerleader; she’s always right there when I need her,” right? Being here singing “I Like It Rough.”

Like football? I would actually prefer it if we wrestle. All WWE style. Seriously WWE.

They released Ron Killings, AKA R-Truth. Those bastards. But another time, my love. As for putting another black man down, I need only look at myself in the mirror. Sunday?

Every day, I have the balls to knock myself down like so many bowling pins. And it “Hurts Like Hell.” But much like embracing the pain of losing my firstborn son B. And the perverse pleasurable pain and torment that I inflict upon you. Like the Scorpion said to the frog as they sank to the bottom of the water. “It’s what I do” I’m “LoveStoned.” “Dead in the Water.” I play music, not with balls. B The Ball, Virgil.

1584 Days Without B III, Day 1025 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 333 ~Zero To Braxton, Virgil~

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I’m reading Stephen King’s The Long Walk. Writing is like participating. I need to win. I’m not my Virgil’s hero; I “failed” my Braxton. But I’d rather have pet bills than euthanasia papers. Speaking of caring. There’s a girl. Zero To Braxton, Virgil

Friday, May 30, 2025

Meditation 333 ~Zero To Braxton, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… “Pontypool Changes Everything,” maybe? I’m afraid not. I won’t be buying any books this week. Paycheck?

Zero. That’s for last week. And this week, I didn’t fare much better. But I was at the Day Job, and if last night was any indication, I was exhausted. The week I worked won’t even pay for Virgil’s Vet Appointment today. I don’t look forward to reading Virgil’s bill.

Sophia, I didn’t want to read Braxton’s Euthanasia papers either. But they’ve rested on the coffee table for four long years. As long as Virgil’s been alive. Keeping Virgil alive.

“And even though you passed. Going on four long years. Still waking up late at night crying tears.”
I Wish

That’s the rub. And yes, nobody needs to be singing any R. Kelly. My son B III is a hero. Braxton is Love. Braxton is Cruel. Braxton was close to Happiness. Like “Kill is Kiss.”

More Pontypool? Because reading bills, bottles, and bureaucracy kinda sucks.

Like reading my works? I’d like to stay up long enough to write. Why’d I choose this way? I chose nothing for if I had well… “I’ll always love my Mama,” but mistakes were made.

“I chose nothing. I was born, and this is what I am.”
Achilles, Troy (2004)

Achilles wasn’t a hero. Hercules was. The animated one, not Kevin Sorbo’s edition. MAGA-loving douche. One more reason I prefer to keep my head in the pages. While this is a time for heroes, I think the American consensus seems to be, as Tina Turner sang, “We Don’t Need Another Hero.” And did I hear correctly that the Cheeto and Chief want a dome? SIGH.

Figuratively, I hope. But you never know. I don’t want to talk politics, but we could be living in Paradigm City from The Big O.

Speaking of anime and The Big O, there’s my boys’ potential stepmom, M Anime. “One More Night” was spent texting her. The Phil Collins version, not Maroon 5. But I keep thinking about how she said their “Sunday Morning” reminded her of me. My heart…

Anyway, last night, it wasn’t only “Sexxx Dreams.” What comes after? If everything goes according to plan, the “Possibility.” Hell, possibilities. After coming comes creation.

“The opposite of war isn’t peace. It’s creation.”
Jonathan Larson

Creating children, can we have a home, “I can be the man you need me to be,” I want to tell her. But Sophia, the last promise I made to someone. I told my B III that he’d be ok.

With M Anime, I’d be both hero and villain. Like Braxton. Zero To Braxton, Virgil

1580 Days Without B III, Day 1021 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 330 ~There’ll B Bodies, Virgil~

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I got so freaking sad. Walmart tends to do that before MAGA’s tariffs. As always, FDT! And I won’t get paid this week. Virgil has a vet visit, and I have a girl looking to be with me. I’m trying to ‘save’ myself… There’ll B Bodies, Virgil

Tuesday, May 27, 2025

Meditation 330 ~There’ll B Bodies, Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? I’m not Jigsaw. Did I mean that to be funny? Like Stephen King, Eli Roth…

Oh yes, there will be blood. Only in movies and books. And why am I in such a creepy mood today? Monday, May 26, 2025. The past few weeks haven’t been so kind. I know.

But I could be crying over Braxton as I did this morning. There was the sweat from my “Anxiety” setting up Virgil’s next vet appointment. I must be as ‘annoying’ as Doechii’s song worrying about my first and second born. And can I mention I see myself sitting on that hard bench in Banfield back on Sunday, January 31, 2021, hearing my son was dying?

He wasn’t the first life I saw end, but the first I ended with my own hand. The stroke of a pen, whatever. A body.

And he was lucky. Braxton only had to die once… Twice, if I ever truly let him go. I don’t know if I ever can. But that’s the man you married. One who has died so many times up to this point in our lives. Our lives? But the day my B left is the one I dare to remember.

“On the day I was born.” What, was I “Bad to the Bone?” The day my father beat my ass for lying about my homework. I wrote down the problems but without any answers. Hell! I still feel a certain kind of way about drinking a bottle of IBC Root Beer. He smacked the bottle out of my hand before… Anyway, how many other lives.

“There I lay, wearing dead people as armor against death.”
― Andrew Davidson, The Gargoyle

Again I’m being pretty effing creepy. But I slay, vanquish, delete, and unalive myself so many times in so many different ways. And no, not because of Braxton. Or that I feel I’m failing Virgil. What about taking care of you and our children? Baby Doll, Love? A Man Provides.

And ‘God forbid’ I use the dreaded K-word. Unless we’re talking about the film Pontypool, then “K*ll is kiss!” And I can’t start singing Teen Idle Feeling super, super (super!)… well, you know the rest. I surround myself with the living to keep back death.

I lie in bed with you. I pay Virgil’s bill. I tuck in our children. I read and write. Burying bodies in fiction without graves. But There’ll B Bodies, Virgil

“Be the body, not the shadow; hold space.”
From ― Amina, The Book of Clarence

1577 Days Without B III, Day 1018 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 326 ~Contracting Braxton and Virgil~

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When it’s not about punching people or pretty girls and my “Enormous P, then there’s paperwork. I have to sign to get the car fixed and to see to V’s health, and I’ll possibly need a credit card. I’m not happy, but I’m Contracting Braxton and Virgil.

Friday, May 23, 2025

Meditation 326 ~Contracting Braxton and Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… But first, I need to get my words right. Don’t I mean Contact, Not Contract? SIGH.

The Devil is in the details. Braxton’s Euthanasia papers and Virgil’s Adoption papers. I pose the question. What are two sets of documents I didn’t read thoroughly? Dear Lady Sophia.

It’s the fine print. I didn’t know I’d hate myself always and forever… Braxton’s demise. And I didn’t think I’d be looking at Virgil and start singing “I Always Find A Way” from Even Stevens. A way to care for Virgil. We went out for a walk, and he had breakfast. Even with my splitting headache. Do you see what time it is, Sophia? Seriously?

Today, I didn’t start with reading “Saying Goodbye – Navigating the Loss of a Beloved Pet: A Guide to Grieving and Healing From Pet Loss” by K.M. Ogden. Another one?

By that, I mean mourning B III. But that’s not why I have the headache now, my dear Lady Sophia. There are worse things to read and worse dreams/nightmares to rest to. Did I say rest? Yesterday, I was talking about B Resting in Peace. Only I don’t let him. And for the past three months, I’ve been complaining about “Dollar dollar bill, y’all.” C.R.E.A.M.

I’m surprised I haven’t been doing that for Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom. Should I stop calling M Anime that? When a woman says, she’s looking into jobs where you’re located…

As serious as the heart attack that didn’t take Braxton. It was his kidneys. As serious as the painkillers I took. As serious as the energy shot I missed, Sophia.

5-hour ENERGY does its job, but if you miss a couple of days, your head hurts like a Mother Effer. I swear I’ve been through this before, and still, I could only get off my ass long enough to get a personal pan pizza and a bucket of chicken. OH, I eat so well. Yeah…

Something I’m going to do to M Anime should I ever get the chance. And while I’m talking about adult situations, how are my finances? They’ll be worse tomorrow, Sophia.

I’m getting that Check Engine Light looked at. After that, Virgil’s health. And next comes having any food. To think I wanted to pay for sex, but I found love. B and V make me rich? Contracting Braxton and Virgil

1573 Days Without B III, Day 1014 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 323 ~L’s Between B, V~

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“I want you to recognize the difference between what you feel and what’s real.” I feel courage, but I ain’t got the guts. I’m horny, but I’m lying here on my… man parts. I’m in love, but in how many ways has my heart broken. Loser. “L’s Between B, V”

Tuesday, May 20, 2025

Meditation 323 ~L’s Between B, V~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? That’s why we must tell our children about the birds and the bees. That conversation.

“But, uh, has anyone talked to you about the birds and the bees?”
“Oh, you mean dicks and vaginas?”
― The Last of Us (2025)

Thank you, but I prefer it my way
Andre Baptiste Sr., Lord of War (2005)

The first time I gave something even remotely similar to that speech was with Braxton.

More to the point of Ain’t nobody “Humpin’ Around.” What can I say? Like father like son, my love. Braxton was supposed to be my breast… Excuse me. My Best Man. And he and I were both big fans of Yabbos. And he B III liked his aunt. A lot. I had to tell him.

What about Virgil? He won’t need that speech, I’m afraid. The ole snip, snip, treatment. Is it any wonder that my secondborn lost his balls? Braxton had some huge cojones.

Seriously, what’s with all this talk about my boys’ anatomy? Trying to be lighthearted, ha!

I’m so “Heavy In Your Arms.” So “Let’s Get Lost.”

The Twilight Soundtrack? That’s the lightest of it, my love. I want to lose my crown. I’ve never been a good man, but how dare I refuse to be king. I don’t have the heart for it. Mine was broken when I lost my firstborn son, little Braxton. Now yours, our kids, trying to mend Virgil’s. A jar of hearts. And no, not like Christina Perri, more like Marianne Engel.

Do you remember when we read Andrew Davidson’s The Gargoyle? That Marianne. Do you remember her man, the pornographer? Eff! How I want to get lost in you, baby doll.

“If you have any idea what I want to do to you right now. I can’t live like this.”
Will Traynor, Me Before You (2016)

Fingers, tongue, and, uh, penis. As the Isley brothers said, “Enough of this singin’, let’s make love.” But “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin'” I have.

“It’s me, hi, I’m the problem, it’s me.” And I can hear you now if I quote one more song…

But what would be left of me? I can’t tell you the critics. And the one who I could tell…

There’s SADNESS, FEAR, and LUST. So, as I have a week to lie here, I don’t have a week to lie here. So what do I do, my love? What do we do? I can’t do this. But husband, father…

What should I read some more? This morning, it was more about pet loss. When I close my eyes, there’s another ding that scares me. And looking at your beauty. And not being able to do anything Less, Loser, Lost, Me. L’s Between B, V.

1570 Days Without B III, Day 1011 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 319 ~Let Him B, Virgil~

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I’ve told many a woman on OF, “I Wanna Eff You.” And I’ve told my boys’ potential stepmom plenty. Next thing you know, I’m shopping, and she sends a pic like “When you’re ready, come and get it.” But what I said? What she’s seen. “Let Him B, Virgil.”

Friday, May 16, 2025

Meditation 319 ~Let Him B, Virgil~

Hey, Lady Sophia,
Let me tell you a story… I should start saying a book review. But we are twenty weeks into the year, and…

This morning would be the perfect time for a critique. I finished Vector by Michael Dalton but was a bit disappointed. So I wasn’t crying over my son Braxton. It’ll happen. But not yet, Sophia.

Though I do miss him sitting on my head. Braxton would get into Good Trouble. Speaking of Good Trouble, what’s the last John Lewis book I’ve read? Waking up, Sophia.

It would either be Braxton making me want to breathe. A girl’s nice big Yabbos. Oh, Sophia, if you only knew. Or books. And that’s something I need to think about today, my Lady. I’m reading my bank account wrong. And am I even on the schedule for next week? I’m scared, so Braxton told Virgil to let me be.

But that didn’t help with what I was doing last night. What, reading ghost stories? I “pray” my boy B is more than some fur floating in the air. And trying my damndest to make sure his little brother Virgil follows him on the Rainbow Bridge. The walking path this morning was scary enough. Virgil vs a cat? What was I thinking about, my Lady?

A gift from Braxton and Virgil’s stepmom. After I got it yesterday, she’s their stepmom. As the song goes, “And then I saw her face. Now I’m a believer.” Only it wasn’t her face…

“And then I saw her face
Now I’m a believer
And not a trace
Of doubt in my mind
I’m in love
I’m a believer
I couldn’t leave her if I tried”
I’m a Believer

It was her words, in a way. A late Valentine’s Day gift, she said. No man has ever seen her like this. But I did, Sophia.

So what was I to tell her? “Good God, woman, you’re gorgeous; you’re a goddess.” And what happened next, you ask? Sophia, you can see me on OnlyFans, but she saw me for free, and…

I haven’t heard a word since. And that’s why I had trouble reading the clock this morning, my Lady. It’s why I had difficulty counting what little money I had left. And A shopping list.

I’m so worried about what she’ll say next. B’s Favorite Girl. She’s “The Sweetest Thing” when it comes to me.

“Your penis is so big
Your penis is so thick
Your penis is so pretty
You’ve got a handsome di*k

Your penis is so hard
Your penis is so large
My body is a movie
And your penis is the star.”
“Staring your penis.”
the film The Sweetest Thing (2002)

“Is you is, or is you ain’t, my baby
The way you’re acting lately makes me doubt.”
Is You or Is You Ain’t My Baby

But have I been right all along? Is M Anime my boys’ stepmom or not? “Is You or Is You Ain’t My Baby” I want to ask her. There’s the word love, the sight, the WRITE… Let Him B, Virgil

1566 Days Without B III, Day 1007 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 316 ~Virgil, I’ll B Saying~

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The last time I had to send Virgil to Braxton’s Room was because of a storm. He’s not one to control his bladder. And he could lose his sh*t. Speaking of which, the things that I say. I miss Braxton. I love sex, I’m afraid. Virgil, I’ll B Saying

Tuesday, May 13, 2025

Meditation 316 ~Virgil, I’ll B Saying~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? More than my boys? I plead the 5th. My love, I’m not that lying Trump.

I have my soft and hard limits, but may I never be as vulgar, vindictive, or vicious as those of MAGA. And yet one of my sons, Braxton, saw Trump’s end… Virgil sees Trump 2.0.

But no, I don’t want to talk about politics today, Monday, May 12, 2025. Or ever. But we have no choice in the matter. As I have no choice but to keep loving Braxton. Always.

And Virgil? I don’t love him as much as Braxton. Later V, Later Virgil as opposed to Love ya B, Love ya Braxton. And look at me crying again. It’s not only because of Braxton. Mother’s Day has been pretty HARD till now. And OH MY GOD, we’ll get to that. Only, I miss Braxton.

Would you rather listen to me cry over him love or sweat over you? Mourning or Moaning? Grieving or Grunting? Wiping my tears or Whipping my… Must I be gross?

“Should I say it out loud?

Yeah, I should. You can’t heal something unless you’re brave enough to say it out loud.

I’m scared, though. I’m scared to say it… which is why I have to.”
The Last of Us

Love, if anything, as Roger sang, “I Want To Be Your Man.” I need “Sexual Healing,” as Marvin Gaye spectacularly put it. What’s better than making Love “Between The Sheets.”

My boy isn’t the only one that can put together a playlist. But we’d have to send Braxton, Virgil, and our two-legged rugrats to bed. Especially considering who I want to be with you. Annoying? I can be that too, but at least I’m not crying anymore, but you, darling.

Well, I want to effing “Tear You Apart.” Because “You get me closer to God.”

And that’s the truth, “I Wanna Eff You.” But not only because I love you more than anything. (Braxton looks down on me from Heaven). I don’t have alternative facts; I have ADDITIONAL facts. Effing MAGA! Anyway, my love, I’m afraid. Yes, I’m worried, but it’s FEAR, my love. And it has begun to overwhelm me. But I’m “Just A Man.” A man provides, protects, and pets puppies. But Braxton isn’t here anymore. And a man isn’t supposed to call on a woman for help, but who else is there. My Ma? Anyone at all?

Love, I don’t know what to do. WHATEVER IT TAKES! I sound like one of my motivations, or Captain America. So what’s next. I have Virgil. Virgil, I’ll B Saying.

1563 Days Without B III, Day 1004 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will